


Every Picture Tells A Story

by KindOfEvil



Series: A Long Road to Your Heart [10]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Other, Seduction, Slow Burn, The Seduction of Mairon, Years of the Lamps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27937202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindOfEvil/pseuds/KindOfEvil
Summary: Desire leads to inspiration and inspiration to desire...
Relationships: Maia | Maiar/Vala | Valar, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: A Long Road to Your Heart [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715368
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Every Picture Tells A Story

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the long wait, life got a bit busy and I did not have much time to write, I am going to try to quickly finish a few chapters before winter vacation ends (there might be a bit more mistakes than usual but I'll do my best to avoid them) but after that it will, unfortunately, be another long period of little to no updates. But do not worry I am still here and am planning to finish this.

The shade beneath the weeping willow was slowly becoming His favourite place in the realm of light. A quiet place it was, a good distance from the endless noise of Almaren and its nosy inhabitants, but close enough to make out the outlines of moving figures as they traversed the white streets. Though it was still too close to the lights for His liking. Thankfully, the shade of viridian leaves helped to block the endless glare, making it easier to bear. And He will, if He must, if for no other reason than to be in the company which was to be found here.

At first His Precious only made his way here occasionally, when the forge got too crowded and too loud, but lately, he had begun spending more and more time in the company of his olvar friend and, by extension, The Dark Vala Himself. And He did indeed agree with Maia's choice; here they did not need to worry about being discovered or interrupted. No, this was a place for only the two of them, and the willow did a great job of ensuring that no prying eyes ruin these private moments between Him and the fire spirit He so dearly treasured. Yet it did not do so for His benefit, rather it was the Maia that had its loyalty.

And Melkor it did not approve of.

It was a nasty thing to deal with, always pulling at His clothes, scratching at His face and refusing to obey orders. And more than once it had taken every drop of His self-control not to uproot it and send it flying across the Arda. Seeing how important the overgrown shrub was to Mairon it would not have done their already fragile relationship any good.

In a way the unlikely friendship between the Maia and the tree made sense, considering their unruly nature. Though when it came to Mairon it was rather endearing, the same however could not be said for the willow. But it knew that there was nothing it could do to keep the Vala away, and since the usually detached Maia approved of His companionship it could only admit defeat and let Melkor have His way. Never would He have thought that a victory over a shrub would feel so sweet, yet there He was, grinning like a madman while Mairon asked his friend to keep their meetings a secret. 

Speaking of His Little Flame, usually, when the Maia sought this place, he came with his small toolkit and some metal bits and pieces that he then spent quite a bit of time assembling into a larger work. While incredibly fragile, these works could move on their own even though they had no soul within them, and they served various purposes. Mairon was quite proud of his achievements and loved explaining the theory behind his works. And Melkor too was amazed by the knowledge and skill His Precious displayed, yet even more fascinating was the fact that he had based these designs on the inner workings kelvar. Mairon had denied having the knowledge of such things as was expected from the obedient little Maia, but Melkor knew the truth. Where he had the chance to see such things He knew not, but it was clear that the fire spirit's thirst for knowledge overcame his instinct to be horrified by such sights.

Yet another reminder that He had indeed chosen His mate well.

However, this time was different, instead of his usual tools the Maia had brought a pile of sheets made from some thin cloth-like material all bound together by a string of rope. At first, Melkor paid it no mind and simply enjoyed the other's company - as He always did, but when He heard strange scratching sounds coming from the Maia His curiosity got the best of Him. He leaned over the roots of their olvar friend to see what the other was doing and He saw that the fire-Maia was using a grey stick-like object to make dark marks on the pages. He reached out and grabbed the object from Mairon's hands, ignoring the protest that came afterwards. "What is this?" He inquired.

"A graphite, it is a tool used for writing." His Precious answered with an annoyed huff whilst trying to take the object back from Melkor who held it just barely out of reach.

The Vala watched Mairon struggle in amusement. "And that?" He nodded towards the other object in Maia's hands.

"Paper, bound together into what we call a book," Mairon said, taking a moment to put it out of Melkor's reach. "It is made from cotton, a very sparse and delicate thing." The last words were accompanied by a pointed look in His direction.

"Writing? Is that what thou art doing?" 

The fire spirit shifted uncomfortably, "...Not necessarily." He pushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear; a nervous gesture.

"Precious..." The Vala purred, leaning closer, mischief evident on His features, "Is My favourite little spirit doing something... inappropriate?" His voice carried the tone of humour and excitement.

"Nay! It is not-!" The Maia cried, quickly turning the other way before adding in a quiet voice, "F-forbidden... necessarily."

"Necessarily..." Melkor repeated with a raised eyebrow and amused smirk.

Not missing the opportunity, the Maia snatched back the stick of graphite from His claws. "I was not notified of its legality." He clarified before taking the sheets of paper with the intent to return to his work. But at that moment the Vala stepped over the roots to settle at his side forcing the smaller spirit to scoot over and make space for both of them. Then Melkor made to grab the sheets from his hands and Mairon had to lean away, almost to the point of lying down, to keep them out of His reach.

Contrary to what many believed, Melkor knew how to take a hint and opted to ask for an explanation instead, "If it is not writing, and it is also not inappropriate - as thou so claim, then what is it that thou art doing?" 

Mairon opened his mouth to answer, and stopped, seemingly unsure how to explain his actions. "I am not certain how to call it, the words that come to mind is 'drawing' or 'sketching'... however..." 

"Thou knows not where thou hast learned them?" The Maia gave a slight nod. "I reckon thou hast heard them in The Vision but could not recall them exactly, it happens, The Vision was vast and no one can remember all that was shown."

"These words were unknown to me before, if I was not aware of them then why can I recall them now?"

"Dost thou remember learning how to change thine form? Or how to use thine voice?" The Vala asked, "Nay, thou knew these things instinctively, the knowledge of it had always been hidden within thine unconsciousness. Likewise, some things we have been shown lie hidden within us until it is time for them to be made known." He nodded towards the book, "So what is this drawing as thou wouldst call it?"

After a moment of consideration, Mairon inched closer and flipped the sheets to show the Vala his work. They were filled with detailed depictions of various items; from elaborately decorated goblets and bowls to simple jewellery designs, quite obviously inspired by the one Maia wore around his neck. Each page was dedicated to one item and contained not only the full drawing of the said item but also many closeups of the most intricate details. Furthermore, there were a few that depicted Maia's many mechanisms, though these ones appeared more complex than what He had seen. Melkor understood well the reason behind their creation, for they were similar to what He had been doing when designing His numerous creations, though He never bothered to find a proper term for His actions. "We think alike, My brilliant Little Flame." He said, caressing Mairon's fiery hair, "I presume these are thine next projects?" 

Mairon nodded, "It is easier to plan the process when I have everything marked down, instead of trying to remember every detail on the spot. I can also work out some inconsistencies that would occur beforehand."

"Indeed... And it makes it harder to forget what thou have been working on." The Vala agreed and pointed at the paper in his hands. "Give Me some." He ordered. And rather surprisingly the Maia obliged, although begrudgingly so. ripping the sheet from its bounds and handing it to Him.

Melkor observed the ripped parts with amusement, unnaturally straight and clean, it would seem that His Precious could not even cause destruction without making it flawless. "Some of that too." He gestured at the graphite and with an annoyed roll of his eyes Mairon pulled another stick from his pocket. 

"Try not to break it - these are the only ones I have."

However, the Vala was no longer paying attention to him, instead focusing on what to do with the new materials He had been given. Taking a moment to inspect the graphite stick He found it to be a rather brittle material, turning to powder at the slightest bit of pressure. A property that made it easy to leave stains on paper - and everything else really. He could easily see the shiny grey marks it left all over His hand. Melkor would have expected Mairon to have complaints about it, considering how much the Maia paid attention to his appearance, yet the fire spirit made no mention of it, quietly continuing to work on his latest sketch.

A long time He pondered over what to draw or write yet no ideas would come to mind. In the end, He choose to let the chaos guide Him and began drawing lines of all shapes and sizes without rhyme or reason across the paper. His hand glided over the page, sometimes moving the graphite in a gentle caress leaving barely visible marks and sometimes applying enough pressure to leave a deep dark groove which distorted its surface. Some lines moved in curves like many rivers flowing through the forests and some cut across the paper like a blade across the flesh. And the Vala could not help the feeling of satisfaction as the once clean surface became more and more defiled.

Once He was satisfied with the chaos He had created He presented His work to Mairon.

"This is...?" The Maia glanced at Him in search of an explanation.

"A drawing." The Vala answered with pride.

Mairon gave Him a look that made it clear he believed Melkor was deliberately avoiding giving a proper answer. "What I mean is: what is it drawing of?"

"Was I supposed to make it resemble something?" Came the genuine question.

And for a moment Mairon was at loss for words. "N-nay..." He said in revelation. "I suppose... not?" He gently took the deformed page from Melkor's hands as if afraid that it would crumble upon lightest of touch. And his amber eyes followed the lines that ran across it, trying to make sense of the pandemonium that he had been presented with. For a long time, he stared at it as if mesmerised, then looking back at Melkor, who leaned onto the tree with His hands behind His head, he asked, "Dost thou... wish for more?"

"Maybe later." Melkor shrugged and closed His eyes, enjoying the cool shade and the scents of nature around them. And just as He was beginning to drift into slumber He heard the Maia shift slightly and He felt the warm gaze of the fire spirit fall onto His form. He cracked one eye open to see what His companion was up to and caught him quickly turning away, a slight redness creeping onto his face. His mouth morphed into a knowing grin, "Quite a sight to behold?" 

He could see the Maia hold himself back from answering with some witty remark. "What is it that thou art referring to?" He asked innocently.

The Vala's grin got even wider. "What indeed?" Yet He decided to let the Maia believe he got away with it. And as soon as He closed His eyes again the distinct feeling of being watched returned and He let it be, wondering what His Precious would do next. The faint scratching noise told Him Mairon had begun drawing again, but it was not continuous as before, now he took short pauses and his movements seemed more enthusiastic than before. And Melkor, who had never been known for patience, could no longer restrain His curiosity and He turned to the other spirit, startling the Maia who immediately pulled the book closer to his chest. "Alright, what art thou up to?" 

"Drawing, what else?" Mairon's eyes darted to the side, avoiding Melkor's icy gaze.

"Mischievous little thing, thou thinkest thou can fool Me?" Melkor then leaned over him and He made the shadows He cast grow darker expecting a reaction from the Maia; be it an attempt to move away, a scared gulp or a nervous shift, but His Precious remained calm as if sure that the Vala meant no real harm. And it was true that Melkor was not angry with him, rather He was pleased by Mairon's attempts at fooling Him - as unsuccessful as they proved to be, for the Maia was yet inexperienced in those things.

"Art thou going to force me?" The Maia asked, sounding all too ready to accept the challenge.

The Vala shook His head. "Nay, I will not." He called the shadows back before continuing, "If thou art afraid of being forced to tell the truth why lie in the first place?"

An endearing pout made its way onto Maia's face. "I thought thou wouldst not notice." 

"Precious..." Melkor purred, placing a gentle hand onto the other spirit's chin, letting His thumb glide over the soft skin. "If thou wishes to learn how to lie, thou only needs to ask, better teacher thou will not find."

The Maia gave him an unimpressed look. "Thou calls thyself a master of lies, yet I can tell when thou art lying."

His grip tightened, "Is that so?" and He leaned closer, pulling Mairon's chin higher, forcing him to look into His eyes. "How?"

"Most of the time I can." The Maia corrected, unfazed by the change in Vala's tone, "There are things that give it away."

"Which are?" 

And Mairon's gaze drifted to Melkor's tail, which struck the ground at his side, before shifting back to the Vala with the look of pure satisfaction. "My secrets art my advantages."

"Imp!" The Dark Vala growled, letting go of his chin and turning away.

"Meaning..." The Maia continued with a sigh, "I will not share them with anyone, for as improper as it is I have found that I prefer to keep things for myself." His hand unconsciously moved to the golden ring around his neck, tracing over the smooth surface.

"Thou also likes to test My patience." Melkor pointed out, looking back at Mairon, the corners of His lips turning up, "Yet thou should know that I always get what I desire." and before Mairon could even process the meaning of His words the papers flew from his hands into Melkor's who moved out of reach just as the Maia leapt after Him, an action which left him sprawled over Melkor's lap.

"Thief!" The fire spirit growled.

"What accusations! Where art thine manners?" The Vala teased. "Thou art supposed to refer to a Vala by 'My Lord'-" He leaned closer, whispering into Maia's ear, «Mayazônôz» and the sound of his name spoken by the song of discord so close to his very being was enough to send shivers down Mairon's spine. "Dost thou like it? When I call out to thee like so?"

Yet Mairon was unamused by His antics, "Thou knowest well that such things affect my kin greatly?"

"True," He dug His free hand into the silken strands of Mairon's hair, "but thou yet again proved to be an anomaly amongst thine kin."

"Anomaly..." The Maia repeated, a glint of hurt behind his voice, but before Melkor could inquire about it the slender hands shot up, grasping the papers from His claws and with a dose of elegance the Maia hopped out of Melkor's lap and out of His reach.

"Tch, slippery as an eel." The Vala huffed. "What is so incriminating that thou art so bothered to show it, I can ensure thee that whatever it may be it is as perfect as any of thine other creations."

"It is not because of the quality..."

"Than what is it?"

"Fine." The Maia plopped down next to Him with an exasperated sigh. He flipped the pages to the newest drawing and turned the book to Him, and what He saw was indeed a surprise. What greeted Him on the page was not a mark of a new idea or a project but rather the recording of what was seen. Melkor found himself staring at a drawing of a being, a male with sharp but elegant features which were made softer by the graceful thin lines, so clearly made by a skilled hand. His gaze dark but also unexpectedly gentle, focused at something in the distance and outside the page. And his lips were quirked in a familiar amused smirk. And a crown of curved horns wound around his brow. He had seen the same image countless times, reflected in the waters and smooth surfaces of icy caves yet the effect it had on Him now was far stronger than ever before.

"...Is this... Me?" He asked.

"Who else couldst it be?" Came an annoyed answer. "Dost thou know anyone else with horns like that?"

"Nay." Came the answer, a soft, almost whisper-like sound. He gazed at the drawing, one hand gently resting atop it. "...Is this...how thou sees me?" 

Mairon gave Him a questioning look. "I guess? It is how thou looks, have thou never seen thyself?"

"I have, but this... this is different, somehow." He struggled for words. "I would have expected thou to see Me as something more... horrifying..."

The Maia cocked his head to the side. "I just drew what I saw. Does it bother thee, that I have not made thee more imposing?"

"Nay, it bothers Me not." Yet He could not name the feeling that it aroused within Him. "Why draw Me?"

"The idea just... came to me, and I guess I wanted to give it a try." Mairon extended his hands to the Vala. "May I have it back now?"

"May I not keep it?"

"Nay." The answer left no room for discussion and the drawing returned to his hands but not without a further protest.

"Why?"

"Why wouldst thou keep it?" The Maia grumbled. "Thou canst see thyself whenever thou wishes, what use is it to thee?"

"Ohhh? So My Precious wishes to keep Me by his side?" He teased.

"What!? Of course not!" The slight blush that marked Mairon's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, spreading over his face and onto his pointed ears. And he turned away in an attempt to hide it. "What nonsense dost thou speak?!"

"Is it nonsense or the truth?" The Vala asked but the Maia refused to answer. "Very well, keep it for thyself, since thou treasures it so." He then noticed His own drawing tucked in between the pages of Mairon's book. "I take it I may not have Mine back either?"

"Thou may not indeed."

**Author's Note:**

> *Idk if I mentioned it before but names hold a lot of power -especially when sung- If a Vala calls a Maia by their real name they can hear it from a very long distance (determined by the power of a Vala) because the soul is directly linked to it and does in fact feel the call even if the words themselves can't be heard. Being called by Melkor would be like being pulled by a strong invisible force (that's kinds trying to suck your soul out of you) or you know, being swallowed by a black hole -a terrifying thing unless you trust the one calling out to you.


End file.
